


A Fool's Folly

by Jamaican Princess (Rocquellan)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cheating, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocquellan/pseuds/Jamaican%20Princess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam didn't attribute the change in Dean and Cas' behavior as anything more than people being people. Imagine his surprise when he finds out the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really love this trope and don't think there's enough of it! I hope others enjoy it :)

The first time Sam got a feeling there was something wrong with Dean and Cas’ relationship, was when his car broke down and he had to hop a bus to get home because Dean lost his phone and the replacement hadn’t arrived yet, so he couldn’t call him. There was an accident on the highway and the bus had to a detour, right past the coffee shop close to town that Dean loved. The one he’d always get his fix from, nestled comfortably between two more larger business buildings.

Sam went there often enough, though not as much as Dean so when his tired eyes looked fondly at the small place, he wondered if he was seeing things when the sight of Cas sitting across from Dean near one of the windows greeted him. There was nothing weird about Cas and Dean sitting together, nor was anything weird about them going out alone without him. They basically grew up together, the three of them because their parents were as neglectful/abusive as they came and they were neighbours most of their lives. Castiel was like a third brother and they took him with them when they left to go on their own with the help of a family friend.

Now, there was nothing _wrong_ with Dean and Cas alone in their favorite coffee shop together, but there was something wrong with the way they _looked_. It wasn’t two friends kicking back and enjoying a cup of coffee, it looked like two men on a date. Intimate. Castiel was leaning across the table with a rapt, lovestruck kind of look on his face while Dean whispered something in his ear, and the cozy ambience of the place didn’t help. The scene disappeared as the bus rolled further away and Sam just chalked it up to his overworked, sleep addled mind making him see things.

Yeah, that’s it, he was seeing things.

After Sam graduated from Stanford University with a degree in Law, he started working for a law firm a few months after in Washington, DC. The pay was good, but the hours were sometimes excruciating but it didn’t matter that it took time away from Dean. His brother would always be there.

Always.

0o0~SPN~0o0

The thing about the Winchester/Novak arrangement was that Castiel was still their neighbour even though they lived on their own now years later. Sam and Dean were _together_ together and even though Sam knew Castiel at least suspected, there was no way they would ever confirm it. That would be too weird for all of them, whether Castiel knew or not. So Castiel slept in the adjoining house to where they lived but spent most of his waking hours in theirs. He was like family anyway, so they wouldn’t have it any other way.

The second time Sam got a weird vibe from Dean and Cas, it was when he came home from a business dinner to the two on the couch, each of them on opposite ends, watching TV. Now, there was nothing weird about two best friends just shooting the shit and having a cold one at home, except, Cas was visibly tense and Dean was trying too hard not to look tense. He knew how they were and figured that somebody had broken something, or had touched something of his they weren’t suppose to and was afraid of his reaction. Maybe the neighbor’s dog got ‘accidentally’ pissed on again? They might have grown up in body, but they had the brains of teenagers and could get into some pretty deep and funny shit sometimes. He snorted at the image of some of the messes he thought up for them and left them there, heading up to his and Dean’s room to shower and get some sleep. He’s positive they’ll tell him what they did when they were ready.

In the following months, Sam was too busy to realize that he hardly saw Cas much anymore and Dean was a little more on edge than usual. When he realized about Cas, he asked Dean about it in passing and Dean just played it down as their friend being weird as usual. He smiled and asked Dean if Cas finally found a girl, one to hold his attention and keep him away from them and Dean had grunted and left to shower.

Sam was happy for the reclusive Cas. A girl was good. Cas needed someone for him like how Sam had Dean; his everything.

...

One Saturday morning Cas showed up at the door, nervous and awkward as all hell and Sam just smiled and hugged him. He didn’t know where the change in attitude had come from, but hey, it was Cas and it was good to see him. They spent the morning together, playing games and watching sports and relaxing like they use to, except Sam got the distinct feeling that Cas wished he could be anywhere but here and Dean was too distracted for this to be any sort of fun. So he let Cas go, tried to wheedle out of Dean what he’s been missing out on with all his time away at work and to be honest, Dean told him a long tale but managed to tell him jack shit about what he asked. Over the next few weeks, he saw even less of Cas and as a matter of fact, he didn’t like the sudden (gradual, but he’s just noticing) change in Dean’s demeanor either.

But hey, they were all changing and evolving people so what could possibly wrong?

...

So the third time Sam got a weird vibe from his brother and friend, and the time he finally realized while looking at the proof that he was so fucking stupid he could bang his head against the drywall until it cracked, he came home early from a two day business trip to the next state and found _them_ wrapped in each other’s embrace, naked on the couch and fast asleep. To be honest, he didn’t know how to react. The sense of betrayal was so deep his vision swam and his heart palpitated like the final moment before a flatline. He didn’t have the heart to wake them and with jerky, unsteady steps, Sam walked over to the armchair adjacent the couch and gingerly sat down, scrubbing a hand over his face and staring at the two lost in blissful oblivion before him.

When last had Castiel seemed so relaxed? His face free of worry lines and how long had it been since Dean hadn’t tossed in his sleep? The weight of the fact that the dynamics had shifted so drastically between the three of them caused silent tears of anguish to slip from Sam’s eyes, even though he made no sound to disrupt what wasn’t his anymore.

He wasn’t Dean’s everything anymore and the knowledge felt like a knife through the chest. Dean promised, all their life, that if he ever shared anything with anybody else in this life, it would never be the entirety of his heart because that was Sam’s and only Sam’s. It wasn’t a random or one time thing between Dean and Cas because everything had been leading up to this moment, Sam realized, when there could never be any argument that Dean gave away what should 100% Sam’s.

Sam’s head swam and his vision blurred with the silent tears. He didn’t want to hear or say anything, he didn’t want the anguish; couldn’t acknowledge the hurt. So, he stumbled back out the way he came, leaving his travel bag where it stood by the door and silently shutting said door behind him, slipping out into the cold, chilly night.

0o0~SPN~0o0

Dean woke with the feel of Castiel in his arms. Even before he opened his eyes he squeezed once, waking the other man because Sam would be back in a few hours and they needed time to get their shit together before he returned. It wasn’t like Dean ever wanted to do this to Sam, but over the years the feelings for Castiel grew until it was like a heavy burden on his chest. Once he’d found out that Castiel felt the same, it all spiralled downward from there and had festered into this ugly (beautiful, really) thing where he wanted to have his cake and eat it too. 

He knew he should have told Sam, but knew Sam wouldn’t accept it and he didn’t have the heart to use Castiel and discard of him when Sam found out. He knew one day he would have to give up on this, no matter how much a part of him wanted Castiel, but Sam was more important and Castiel knew. It had always been that way and some things just could never change, no matter what. This would be the last time though because Castiel would be moving away in a few days, providing an easy way out of the mess they’d found themselves in with each other, giving Dean time to reconnect with Sam in ways he’d been lacking since their illicit affair began and assuaging Castiel’s own emotions at betraying Sam. 

Dean was all for it. He just wanted to hold on for a minute more before he would finally let the man go.

“Morning.” Castiel’s voice was sleep addled and rough, mixed with a tinge of sadness.

“How did you sleep?” Dean asked lightly, even though he knew none of them got much. They were too busy milking each other for all they were worth, wanting to get as much of each other as possible for the last time.

“Fine.” There was a long pause. “So...this is it, huh?”

Dean looked down at Cas, who lifted his head from his chest to look into his eyes, longing and resignation in their depths, hair mussed and cheeks flushed. “This is it.”

God, it was so hard for Dean, even if he knew this was necessary to break both of them out of the spell that had them unable to resist each other. He didn’t love Sam any less, not even an inch less but Castiel had gotten under his skin, in a very bad way.

There was a slow, passionate kiss. Hungry and desperate. When they broke apart, Dean realized he wasn’t hard like he usually was when Cas kissed him. It was a goodbye, not an invitation.

“I’ll make you some coffee before I go.” Castiel’s voice was tender, his touch lingering.

Dean hummed in acknowledgement. He could still feel his muscles ache from how long and how hard they’d been at it last night. Castiel was extremely passionate and his eyes followed the man’s naked body, mottled with his marks (though Cas couldn’t leave on Dean’s body for obvious reasons), until the back of the couch blocked his vision. He settled into the couch, closing his eyes and relaxing his body until a suddenly gasp and a frantic call of his name caused him to jolt upright. When he looked over at Castiel, the man was frozen stiff, staring wide eyed at something by the front doorway, which was enroute to the kitchen.

Heart beating with worry, wondering what the hell could have Cas so spooked, Dean threw on his boxers, scrambled to the door and looked. He sucked in a breath of fear at the sight that greeted him, the item looking so innocuous by the front door.

“Sam was here, wasn’t he?” Castiel asked, so small and uncertain for a grown ass man.

“Shit!” Dean screamed and thumped the wall, startling Cas beside him who gulped down air with his fingers splayed over his chest, obviously trying to regulate his heartbeat.

“Dean...” Cas started but the older Winchester cut him off. “I’ll take care of it, go.”

“Dean, if Sam...”

“I said get the fuck out of here, Castiel, or I’ll throw you out. You’ll be leaving anyway and this is none of your concern...it never was.” Dean’s tone and words were meant to hurt and he could see it did the job pretty well. His father would be so proud of him.

Dejected, with tears gathering in the corner of his eyes, Cas went back to the couch and slowly started to redress himself. When he was through, he went back to the door, looked straight at Dean who he knew was only keeping it together because he was still there and said, “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

Dean never took his eyes off Sam’s bag. “You didn’t do anything, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I could have said no.”

Dean blinked, taking in a deep breath to steady himself without answering, having no comeback. Castiel walked out the door, shutting it softly behind him and it felt like another gavel pounding at his sentence.

“Jesus Christ...” Dean moaned, doubling over as the fear gripped his chest and tried to claw its way out of his stomach. Sammy saw, Sammy left and now he had no idea where he went. He pulled his hair while he wracked his brain for known friends of Sam’s, people he could call and find out if they saw his little brother recently.

Racing up the stairs, Dean grabbed his cell phone and with shaky fingers dialled Jessica, Brady, Rebecca and Madison. None of them had seen Sam in weeks, some months. With a heavy heart he dialled Ruby, the bitch responsible for Sam’s little stint with drugs back in college. She said Sam was with her getting high and he knew it was a lie. She never could lie to him easily. None of Sam’s work friends have seen him either and the fear ratcheted up a notch when he called the last acquaintance of Sam’s whose number he had.

It was a bust.

Dean searched high and low for his brother for days, busting out the Jack Daniels and hard liquor the more he failed. It was like Sam just disappeared into thin air and the little shit sent in a request for three weeks vacation without him realizing. So for the next couple of weeks, Sam wouldn’t be at work where he could find him.

Dean’s boss had offered him time off to get over this too, saying he wouldn’t be any good in the garage if he was fucked in the head. He felt a new level of respect for the man he had never felt before.

It took the third night for Dean to realize that the light had been off in Castiel’s house for two days straight. Stricken, he hung his head and entered the cold, empty house, hallowed of all warmth and love.

It was eating Dean out like termites as the anger and guilt gave way to a helplessness so fierce it could choke him dead. He’d cheated on Sammy; little brother, love of his life, _everything_ and he pushed Cas away. Now, they were both gone and he had no idea what to do with himself, no purpose to life. 

Two weeks later, while the search for Sam turned up more dead ends, Dean was ready to put his neck on a guillotine. His stomach roiled on a constant basis, food was the enemy and Mr. Jack Daniels and Miss Mariekugel suddenly became even bigger best friends. How could he lose Sam after all he swore to protect him and how could he hurt him? How could he be so fucking stupid and cheat?!

 _It was the last time, he shouldn’t have found out like that._

Dean even tried to fucking pray for Sammy’s return, for fuck sake. 

By this time, Dean had exhausted all his resources and he tried Sam’s cell number for the millionth time. It always dumped to voicemail like Sam got rid of the thing but he didn’t care. He always hope that the next time would be better. 

He was about to try for the million and one time when the phone chirped suddenly, the word ‘unknown’ flashing across the LED display. He wanted to tell whoever to fuck off and leave him alone so he could angst in fucking peace, but before he could get a word in edgewise he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in years, a voice he wasn’t expecting at all.

“Goddamn it, Dean, where the hell are ‘ya?”

Bobby. It never occurred to him to fucking call Bobby even though it’s been years. Where the hell else would Sam go but to the person he considered family?

Tensing, Dean asked tightly, voice hoarse from liquor abuse, “Tell me he’s there, Bobby. He’s alright, aint he?”

Bobby’s voice was hesitant, distracted, but he answered with a resigning, “Yeah, the Idgit’s here, though I can’t say too much on his mental state. What the hell happened, boy? I can’t mention your name without him locking up and shutting down...”

Dean sniffled, wiped the tears from his eyes and the snot from his nose with the back of his hand and with the first spark of hope since this thing began, said with much conviction, “I’ll be right there.”

Before Bobby could protest, Dean hung up and went to the bathroom to put himself together, wanting to make sure the ghost of a shell he’d become without his Sammy wasn’t obvious.

The drive was frantic, accident inducing and Dean was lucky to reach in one piece. A four hour car drive took him three.

Bobby was on the front porch in the afternoon sun, looking more uncomfortable than he’d ever seen in all the years they’ve known each other. Dean walked up to him with much trepidation, not knowing what to expect. Maybe Bobby will knock a tooth loose for him hurting Sam, or maybe he’ll tell him he’s not welcomed, or maybe he’ll grab the licensed shotgun hiding behind the door and pump him full of buck shots.

It sure as hell wasn’t, “He needs you, get in there,” said with a resigned grunt.

Dean didn’t need anymore prodding and if he flew past Bobby without so much as a thanks, the man knew it was there anyway. When he entered the huge house, more familiar than his own but stranger for all the years without him, his eyes scanned for any sign of Sammy. Living room was empty, so was the kitchen and his instincts told him to go to their old, shared bedroom, the place where he would always keep Sammy safe as a kid.

Dean’s heartbeat pounded in his ears like drums at the sight of Sam, curled into himself and sniffling with his eyes closed, hands hugging his chest and shaking like he was cold.

Dean didn’t know his heart could shatter anymore than it already had, but it did. It did because he did this to Sam.

“Sam?” Dean’s voice was small and he took slow, unsure steps towards his brother, not wanting to startle him.

Sam’s eyes opened blearily, wet and bloodshot and Dean grabbed him into a tight hug when his brother hid his face and keened brokenly.

“Sam, Sammy, look at me. Sam please...I’m so sorry.”

Sam broke down even further, if possible, and Dean felt like the world was shattering as he held him, not willing to let go. He _needed_ Sam to be fine, they needed to get past this. Not just for Sam’s sake, but his also. Dean pulled back and carded a finger through the now unkempt hair, prodding his brother to look at him. “Sammy, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Sam...”

Sam’s crestfallen expression was more than Dean could manage when his brother looked at him, gripping him tightly in return. “W-what did I do wrong? P-please Dean, I won’t make the mistake again. Whatever I did I swear I’ll do it better D-Dean...”

“Jesus Christ, Sam...” Dean started in incredulity, not believing his ears. Was Sammy really taking blame for any of this? It was like a punch to the gut, realizing that he could make Sam think so little of himself in so short a space of time. “...No, no! _Nonononono_ , you didn’t do anything wrong Sam, I swear. You didn’t, you didn’t...”

Dean was frantic for Sam to believe him, had to get it through his thick skull that it was all his doing and nobody elses. Sam sniffled, looked at him with tears still flowing freely in perplexed, hazel eyes and said shakily, “But if I did everything right you wouldn’t have strayed, Dean.”

Dean was frozen stiff at the logic, obviously wrong but so Sam it hurt. This was why he didn’t want Sam to know, the fucking martyr. He took his brother’s face between his hands, forced his head up to look into his eyes and growled. “Listen to me and listen good, Sammy. I love you more than life itself, and all of this, everything you saw, me and Cas? It was _all_ my fault. I seduced him when I realized I had feelings for him and I’ll take the full brunt of the responsibility for that. I’ve never loved you any less, never will. You didn’t do anything wrong, _anything!_. I wished you’d yell, kick my ass and tell me what an asshole I’ve been. Be mad at me Sammy, but please...” his voice broke on the plea. “...Please, don’t you _ever_ blame yourself for any of this. It’s all on me, only on me. I’ll never leave you, Sammy...never.”

Dean held on to his brother so tight, making Sam cry into his shoulder and release the pain and the fear. He climbed into the bed, shushed him, soothed Sam until he was fast asleep, all cried out and haggard with hurt like he himself felt, even though he was being strong for Sam, accepting his wrong and laying himself bare. He fell into the darkness shortly after Sam, remembering that he wasn’t doing any better than his little brother was. He’ll make it up to Sam, he has to, because being together is the only way they’ll ever be able to overcome any obstacle life decides to throw at them, no matter whose fault it was to begin with.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean didn’t expect unicorns with rainbows shooting out of their asses or the luck of the Irish the next morning, or for everything to be fine and dandy between him and Sam. Neither did he expect to wake up to the sight of Sam sitting on the other bed in the room, watching him with knees drawn up to his chest, held in place by the canvass of his large arms, nor the lacklustre look in his eyes.

Dean didn’t know what to expect, but he knew he had a lot of work to do. He didn’t try to touch Sam or smile at him. He needed to be pragmatic about the situation and he knew without a doubt that he wasn’t Sam’s favorite person right now. He would start off small, then work his way back into Sam’s good graces. Sounded like a plan. “Morning, Sammy. You eat yet?”

“Name’s Sam. Not hungry.”

Dean noticed Sam pulling his legs tighter to his middle when he stood and stretched, popping his back and he knew that was a bad sign. “Yeah, right. Well, I smell bacon and eggs in the kitchen, let’s go see what Bobby’s got for us.”

“You go down, Bobby can bring mine here.”

Dean stood akimbo, sighing. “Avoiding me, are ‘ya?”

Sam shrugged, one foot touching the ground tenderly. “You made it clear last night it’s all your fault, so yeah, I don’t want to have anything to do with you right now.”

Dean just stood there and watched Sam, experiencing for the nth time the ‘90 degrees of Sam Winchester’ and knowing that the best thing right now was to give him his space. “Yeah, whatever you want, Sammy.”

A growl. “It’s _Sam_.”

With that, Dean turned and walked out the door.

...

“He aint coming down?” Bobby asked while forking pancakes, eggs and sausage on to Dean’s plate while he sat around the wooden kitchen table. There was an empty plate by the other chair, waiting for Sam to grace it with his presence. 

“He said to bring it up, he aint coming down,” Dean sighed, not all that hungry, considering.

“‘Cause he aint hungry or something else?”

Dean knew Bobby was no fool, knew that even if Sam didn’t spill the beans, he could pick sense out of nonsense better than most people could. “...Something else.”

The first bite would have been scrumptious, if only Dean’s tastebud would co-operate with his eyesight.

“So...” Bobby drawled while he poured a cup of coffee with his back to Dean. “What happened between you two? Boy showed up one day looking like somebody dragged him through hell before spitting him on ‘m doorstep...wasn’t a pretty sight at all.”

Dean swallowed the food like a lump of coal was forcing it’s way past his trachea. “Look, Bobby...”

“Fine,” Bobby cut in, smelling the bullshit a mile away like hounds on the trail of a spit-fire pork roast. “You wanna sort this on your own, fine. But remember, that boy is as much like family to me as you are. Nobody hurts either of ya on my watch, not even each other.”

Dean gulped. He might have admitted readily to Sam that he was wrong, but other people was a whole other kettle of fish and even if he wanted to tell Bobby what had happened, the words wouldn’t pass his throat. He watched blithely as Bobby plated Sam’s breakfast, then used a finger to push the plate at him and said, “He needs to eat something, make sure he does.”

Dean could hear the warning and the plea rolled in one, so he grabbed the plate like a lifeline and made his way upstairs. He knock once before pushing the wooden door open, then he looked at Sam sitting on the window sill and looking down at the junkyard in a daze.

“Hey, breakfast.”

No response.

“Bobby said you hadn’t eaten in a while and think you should start before he kicks both our asses, ya know?” Dean tried to sound casual, though it bordered on a grimace since there was no acknowledgement whatsoever from his brother. He brought the plate closer, prodding Sam with the ceramic, only to still be ignored completely. Sighing, he put the plate on the night table before sitting on the bed and rubbing a hand over his face. He looked at Sam, really looked at him and could see that this had hit his brother so hard he just wasn’t the same. There was no trace of the immovable, optimistic ball of energy that was the great Sam Winchester, the guy that could do anything he put his mind to, including attending university and becoming a lawyer despite all the challenges he faced in life. 

Dean should be protecting Sam from those challenges, not causing them and it ate at him something fierce. He had to make this right. _Had_ to.

“Look, Sam...I’m sorry...”

“Why?”

Dean started, surprised at the question. That question could be taken to mean any number of things and to be honest, he didn’t have an answer for any of them.

Sam continued. “Why did you make a promise to me you weren’t going to keep?”

Dean sighed, feeling more like shit if that was even possible. He looked away from Sam, staring at the worn carpet on the floor, wondering how he could fix this without knowing the answer himself.

“And with Cas of all people? Were you laughing behind my back? Were you both laughing at how I was such an idiot for not seeing?”

Dean’s head snapped up at that, a horrified expression on his face and he shook his head in denial, because what the fuck was Sam even saying? He ran a hand through his hair and shuddered. “Jesus Christ Sam, how could you even think that?”

Sam laughed, humorless and dark before meeting Dean’s eyes. “A week ago, I wouldn’t have thought you’d ever hurt me this bad either.”

Dean sighed, exasperated. “Sam...”

“No, Dean. No!” Sam stood, making his way towards the door. “You do not get to come here and tell me what to do and how to feel. You do not get to claim any rights to me, ever!”

“Sam, just fucking stop.” Dean watched as his brother walked out the door, walking out on him and all he could think was he wished he could go back and stop any of this from ever happening. Where the hell was a genie when you need one?

...

Bobby could see the boot approaching from his lying position under the damaged chassis of a wrecked silver Ford before he turned his eyes back up and focused on the socket wrench and mini hammer he had in his hand. Dealing with a damaged vehicle was so much easier than dealing with a damaged person 99% of the time.

“Bobby.”

Bobby dropped the hammer and scratched his head before answering, knowing the upcoming topic would border ridiculous and hurtful. He slid out from under the car, covered in grease and sweat and looked up at the overly bright silhouette in the afternoon sun staring down at him. “Yeah, boy?”

There was a grumpy sigh. “Sam’s locked himself in your room since this morning, I need the key.”

Yeah, Bobby remembered the last time a teen Dean jimmied the lock on his bedroom door. The kid couldn’t use the fingers for a few days. He was happy Dean had gotten rid of those dirty teen rebellious habits though, -well, more like keep it at a bare minimum- especially with all the shit they’ve both been through with John Winchester after Mary died. Still, a deal was a deal and he promised Sam. Bobby stood and wiped his hands on a dirty rag. “No can do.”

Surprised, Dean asked, “What?”

He didn’t look at Dean while he elaborated. “Well, Sam’s sleeping with me tonight. Well, not _with me_ but more like on the floor, ya know?” Bobby flushed when he realized that explaining that part was reflexive. “I wanted to force him out but you know how he gets with those puppy eyes of his, couldn’t tell the kid no.”

Dean could hardly take this anymore. He clenched and unclenched his fists, knowing he couldn’t force Sam any more than Bobby could. If Sam wanted to sleep in another room tonight, he just had to let him be. “Fucking awesome.”

Bobby watched as Dean walked away, sighing under his breath. He hoped whatever funk these two found themselves in, they would get out of it soon. None of them did ever function properly as a single unit. None of them could function at all without each other.

Later that night, while Bobby slept on the bed (cause he was getting old, damn it, no matter how much he wanted to be a good host to Sam) and Sam slept on a futon on the floor, he drifted off in a fitful sleep after relaxing his ailing back on the soft mattress. If Sam started whimpering from an apparent nightmare and Dean could be heard shushing and whispering to the kid, then he wasn’t gonna roll over and look a gift horse in the mouth. Bobby didn’t sleep light, but he did love his beauty rest. Early morning when the first rays of the morning sun streamed through the thin curtains, Bobby expected to see Dean when he rolled over and looked on the floor. Turns out Sam was alone, drooling like a kid but alone. He wondered if he imagined Dean in the night or not.

Probably not, he didn’t leave the door unlocked for no reason.`

Breakfast was the usual affair. Sam stayed in his room all morning, Dean brought up his breakfast and the food wouldn’t be touched until Bobby came up and promised opening a can of whoop ass on Sam he if he doesn’t treat his body with more respect. So Sam forced some bites, showered and then Bobby would leave to go work on a car, while giving Dean space to try and work on Sam. He knew that whatever happened it was bad. Nothing had ever come between them boys before and he figured whatever it was had frayed their trust like kindle wood in a blazing, kerosene ladled fire. Come to think of it, Novak-kid hadn’t called or visited once. Them three were joined at a really pertinent organ, one that couldn’t be severed without destroying all three on some level.

Oh. _Oh_.

So it had something to do with Novak boy. Dean had slept with girls and Sam had bitched, but nothing worse than that and Dean wasn’t ever really bothered too much by anything Sam did as long as he wasn’t hurting himself. Like, that glitter-named girl that gave Sam drugs. It was the most crass he’d ever seen Dean and that was saying a lot.

They were all relatively happy until now and Castiel was MIA. So yeah, Bobby was no fool. He just wanted them to hurry and go back to _SamandDean_ soon, cause ‘Sam and Dean’ just wasn’t cutting it.

Too bad the apocalyptic type mess that would get these two going again hadn’t happened yet.

...

“Alright, so there’s been a string of robberies in town over the past few weeks,” Dean said while he read the morning paper around the kitchen table, face scrunched in concentration while his eyes scanned the pages. It’s been two and a half weeks and Sam, for the first time, was sitting beside him while Bobby wore an apron and washed dishes in pink 3M gloves by the sink. 

Dean always knew Bobby would make a great mom. He liked his tongue in his head though so he kept that little thought to himself. “Some victims have been hurt but none killed.”

“Well, cops do diddly-squat when it really comes down to the wire. Even I would have caught the two guys already if it was my business,” Bobby said.

“Maybe you should become a cop, you’ve done more for these people than any of them did a lot of the time,” Sam answered, even though his immediate thoughts were as far away from the current subject as possible. This conversation was an old, recycled one. He could hardly focus on anything but the pain of betrayal while Dean sat so close.

Dean pretended he wasn’t staring at the way Sam pushed his bacon and scrambled eggs around on the plate before him, or how the cup of coffee was now as cold as ice.

“Well, yeah...”

Maybe Bobby had thought about it a few times, if his hesitation was anything to go by. As much as he and Sheriff Mills butt head a lot of the times, Bobby was a quick thinker who acted like an unofficial consultant to the fiery woman occasionally. Dean had even talked to Bobby about it a few years back but the man didn’t want to deal with the legal red tape that went with going official. Bobby could do a lot of things Sheriff Mills and the cops couldn’t, and would get away with it too depending on who knew.

But back to Dean’s main concern. He looked to Sam before speaking. “Hey, Sammy, wanna go for a drive down to the grocery store, we need some supplies, Bobby’s fridge isn’t use to accommodating three people for so long.”

Sam didn’t smile, but he didn’t scowl or throw his epic bitch face either. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even look at Dean.

“Yeah boy, need some real food and ‘m sure Dean could use the hand ‘cause, you know...he got two left ones.”

Dean scowled at Bobby.

Sam sighed dejectedly, shoved the plate away and then looked to Bobby with a forced smile. “Sure, anything you want, Bobby.”

Dean glared at Sam while he grabbed his jacket and head through the door before giving Bobby a pinched look.

Bobby shrugged helplessly before turning back to the dishes.

...

“Heya, Sammy, bet ya I could fit this whole 9 inch zucchini in ‘m mouth in one go. Huh?”

Dean’s tone was naughty, he waggled his eyebrows and Sam ignored him, but the underaged teenage girl who suddenly materialized after Dean’s sentence made a frightened squeak before running away with arms full of carrots, potatoes and celery like her tail was on fire.

Dean felt more than embarrassed and he put the vegetable back, scratched the back of his head and then took off for the other end of the building for a few minutes to avoid possible angry family members or something.

Sam hid his face and smiled.

....

“So, we got everything on the list except for...Soju?” Dean squinted at the unmarked item on Bobby’s list for a second while driving before throwing the paper to Sam in the passenger seat and focusing back on the road. “What the hell is that anyway?”

“Korean rice liquor.”

The montone of Sam’s response kinda squeezed at Dean’s bubble, but it didn’t burst completely because this was a step up from the cold silence the past couple of days. Yeah, if he could go from zero to one, then he could move from one to a million. Eventually. Dean chuckled.

...

“Hey, Sammy...?”

“It’s. Sam.”

Dean wasn’t the least bit deterred by the growl or the fact that Sam was giving him his back. At least they were sleeping in the same room again. Sam had cussed him out so bad when he found out he spent nights with him in Bobby’s room and to save Bobby the embarrassment of having to put up with their problems, he decided to reclaim his bed in _their_ room. Like Dean didn’t know Sam just wanted to be close to him, because ever since the drugs Sam’s had nightmares about people telling him how evil he was and how his blood was tainted and how he would end the world in some apocalyps crap where he was the devil.

Sam dreams he’s the most evil thing ever all because he took drugs. What an idiot. “Yeah, Sammy, I know. Anyway, do you remember that time when we were kids and you almost broke my nose pretending to be Luke Skywalker...”

“...Cas patched you up.”

The temperature suddenly dropped to below zero and Dean couldn’t get another word out. Why did Sam have to be such a pain when he was trying to ride the good, even if it was silent, mood that had developed between them. “Yeah, and I’m talking ‘bout you and me. Not Cas.”

“But Cas was there. Always. Especially in the one place I never thought he’d end up no matter what...in my bed, with YOU.”

“Ah come on Sam. Cas liked me, I liked him and we both made a mistake. We did something wrong...” Dean slowly moved closer until he was inches away from Sam, wanting to touch but afraid to push his luck. But that didn’t stop him and he gripped Sam’s shoulder tightly, relishing in the heat and the _feel_ of Sam. “...we hurt you badly and we are both trying to make this right.”

The look in Sam’s eyes, it was one that made Dean feel like he was getting stabbed in the chest with a dull blade every time. He’d give up his soul for Sam to never look that hurt ever again.

“But what would stop you from doing it again? You _never_ get attached before, Dean. This time you did and maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so bad if it was with a stranger, not _family_.”

Dean nodded, didn’t say anything because there was no counter argument, nothing to make that point moot and he just wanted Sam to see that he would accept his flaws, never repeat them and move on. But no, Sam wanted to wallow in his hurt until it ate him alive. Until it ate them both alive. Until it rot at his insides. Until...

“Yeah, you’re right, Sam. Of course I’m a fuck up that never gets anything right. You know, maybe dad was right, maybe I’ll eventually destroy everything around me, even you. Maybe it would be best if...”

Dean couldn’t finish that sentence and before he could say something he would live to regret, he stood and went right out the door, ignoring the wide eyed, torn look Sam was throwing him.

Sam laid there, crying silently into his pillow because that was not how he wanted that conversation to go. He had no intention of apologizing, but he had every intention of seeking out his brother and bringing him back.

In just a second.

After a few more seconds of crying.

When he felt like it.

_BOOM!_

_Definitely_ now after that ear piercing, heart hammering, bone rattling gunshot.

Sam didn’t see or feel anything except bone deep fear as he scrabbled out the door with one person on his mind. “DEAN!”


End file.
